A Soldier's Life for Me - GermanyxReader
by LemonTwinkie
Summary: Not many wanted to live to the day to see Ludwig Beilschmidt defy the power of Adolf Hitler. Not many even mention the event. But what happens when instead of joining the underworld, he becomes Satan's own puppet? Rated M for Gore and eventual rape/sex. A GermanyReader.


**Hello everyone! I am the author of "A Soldier's Life for Me!" I noticed before this story was quite boring, so I decided to re-write, as promised! I've gotten much better at writing Xreaders, though I'm not fond of them. The Pov will be First Person YOUR Pov, because second Pov is just strange and stupid. I'm sorry if I abandon the story, for my life is very busy. But now, please enjoy the new and improved first chapter of, "A Soldier's Life for Me"!**

Throughout the loud screams of the members in my platoon at our commanding officer whipping everyone for losing this battle and for being lazy, I managed to sneak out to the bathrooms. If you could even call it those. The mirrors were shattered from many of us punching it angrily, because we were so angry at _him_. We never spoke the Devil's name. We never did.

I looked at my cheek in the mirror, seeing the swelling already happening. My cheek was a swollen mess and my cut had dried blood in the crevices. I brought my boney hand to my face and stroked it, trying to calm myself down like someone I _used_ to know did. He lost himself in this war. Not his life, but his sanity. I remember the last day he was sane... I remember the day he turned insane...

The day was September 13th, a Friday, on a cold autumn afternoon. I remember the moment as clearly as I can see this scar right now. I sat in that dull gray room big enough to house a couple beds. The lamp light made it dull to see, and it was hard for me to read my "The Tale of Two Cities" book. Especially with my best friend's dog jumping all over the place. Berlitz, the dog's name, yelped as my cat Emmy scratched her nose. I discarded the book on the bedside table and stalked over with my spray bottle, squirting the Bengal cat with some water. She hissed and sputtered, hissing at me madly as I crawled back over to the bed. I picked up my book again and read a paragraph, only to heara knock at my front door.

Who could it be now?

I murmured a curse under my breath before saying, "this book will have to wait." Slowly I walked over to my front door, flinging it open. There stood my shy neighbor, an old Japanese veteran, the usual worried look on his face. "Miss _! There's another public whipping!" he yelled frantically, some stale tears stained on his red face. His musty brown eyes looked like smooth dark chocolate mixing with the sweet golden color of sugary caramel. His short bob cut sterling black hair was being ruffled by the wind and he was in his usual Japanese Naval Uniform.

My eyes widened at his words, tears springing to my eyes. Those devil murder rituals took my brother and my father. Those public whippings for those who defy the great one, Adolf Hitler. Based on the look in Kiku's eyes, I knew it was urgent. My voice was lost, but somehow I regained it quickly."Who...Is it?" I asked softly, my voice full of fear.

"Feliciano," he whispered back. That name shot my brain, the tears stringing forth. He was like a brother to me. He took me in when my mother died of a broken heart. He's the reason I'm living, because he taught me to never give up. He was also the best friend of my crush and desired lover, Ludwig. The sweetest man in the world, a peacemaker, was getting whipped publicly?

I managed to stumply outside of my front door, staring at the stage in the distance. The reaping, everyone calls it. It's only used for public executions. Public deaths is the worse show ever.

Feliciano's hands were tied to large bronze rods, his feet dangling above the ground. A silver chain was bound to his wrists and neck, a muzzled bracketed over his thin lips. A knot of brunette hair hungin his face, milk brown eyes were full of tears. That awful man took the riding crop in his hand and yelled in German, whipping the Italian boy vigorously.

"This man," he yelled, whipping Feliciano's blood stained arm once more, "has defied my law. He has argued with my soldiers in protest against joining my army. He called me a monster. He called me the devil! But we all know I am the one to make this world a better place. So tell me, what punishment does this man deserve?"

"Death!" most of the towns people in the city of Berlin cried, alarming the ones who cared. An uproar started between the peopke who did care, only to have Nazi soldiers shoot them down. Other gasps were heard and agonizing screams from those who were shot. Blood sprayed all over everything, tainting the once beautiful city even more. Everyone else shut up and payed attention to Hitler, petrified to speak.

"But before I finish him off, would anyone else care to protest? You'll be free to have an even worse punishment than this poor excuse for a citizen." No one didn't dare talk. No one didn't move or even breathe. "Very well th-"

"Wait right there," a deep voice called, the owner making his way up to the front of the stage. "_I protest._" A familiar pair of sapphire blue eyes looked over the crowd nervously for his life, but that same stubborn face was there. The same slicked back platinum blonde hair hung in his pale white face, a black tank top contrasting perfectly with his eyes and hair, all put together to have that military look with cargo pants and black combat boots. The iron cross shone proudly on his neck, since he was a veteran from the past war. I knew that look all too well. Even more than I knew what was going on right now. It was _Ludwig_, going to defy the man he served. Well, _once_ server that is.

"So you're defying me as well, are you Lance Corporal Ludwig?" Hitler snickered, ever-so-softly caressing the devil's playtoy in his hands. He brought it down on Feliciano one more time, before fully turning his attention to Ludwig, the German who knows no cowardice.

"Y-yes," he stuttered, trying to stare in to Hitler's cold and uninviting eyes to be confident. On the outside, he looked like a rock. He looked hard to break. He looked tough. But all of the towns people knew better. They knew it was easy to snap Ludwig like a twig when it came to his feelings. "You killed my friend's brother and father in one of these, and now you're killing something even closer to her. I _won't_ let you do that."

Hitler looked like he was enjoying this game, if you could call it that. He was smirking like the villain he is before saying, "_You_ lost." I couldn't bare it anymore. I ran back inside my house, unable to see the rest of it. Surely his fate was now decided. He would die with Feliciano, his best friend. But it took all I had to bring myself to _NOT_ run up there, take Hitler by the arm, and punch his jaw until he passes out could. That monster deserved it. He _will_ pay.


End file.
